Distractions, a Gaston Lagaffe fanfic
by Lieju
Summary: Léon Prunelle had no interest in any kind of romance, and that was how he preferred it. But then, of course, Gaston Lagaffe happened. Basically, here's this slash-fanfiction about a Belgian gag comic that has never been published in English for Valentine.
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: Gaston Lagaffe

Pairing(s): Prunelle/Gaston, Part 1 of a series.

Summary: Léon Prunelle had no interest in any kind of romance, and that was how he preferred it. But then, of course, Gaston Lagaffe happened.

Rating: I'd let my mum read this.

* * *

><p>It all started with something Prunelle noticed Miss Jeanne doing.<p>

Of course, it wasn't _her_ fault.

No, like almost everything that went wrong in Prunelle's life (And the office in general), it could be led back to one Gaston Lagaffe.

But that day, Prunelle had felt like he had already dealt with his daily dose of Gaston, after yelling him to get rid of the ants (Ants! The idiot had started to breed _ants _in the office, rogntudjuu!), and the sickly sweet smell hanging thick in the building. (Which Prunelle suspected was related to the ant-problem.)

In any case, yelling had happened, and Gaston had been forced to clean up the remains of the ant-hill middle of the staircase. Prunelle had decided to stay and keep an eye on him. Partly because he was convinced the slacker would turn and run, or fall asleep, or melt into a puddle simply to avoid anything resembling work, if he wasn't there keeping watch.

And partly because he was holding out hope some of the contracts the ants had used to build their nest could be recovered in good enough shape.

So, he was there watching, when he noticed he wasn't alone. Miss Jeanne had stopped on her way to the office, and was looking at something.

Typical, Gaston's influence was spreading. Soon no-one would do any work around the place.

But there was something odd about the way she acted, turning red and avoiding Prunelle's eyes when she noticed he was looking at her, and hurried on her way.

Prunelle decided to ignore it (at least she had returned to work) but later he caught her doing it again.

She was staring at Gaston.

Not only that, but as Prunelle realized, she was staring at his butt.

He turned into a light shade of pink upon realizing it. He had known they had a relationship of some kind, but it was quite different to realize she would be checking him out.

He just preferred NOT to know anything about is coworkers sex lives, thank you very much!

Was it even that good of a butt?

It was a good view, he had to admit, as the younger man was bending over to sweep the trash off the floor, his jeans hugged his posterior quite snuggly, which Prunelle assumed women found appealing. Not that he would know much about that.

He was shaken from is reverie by the subject of is thoughts. "Heey, Prunelle."

"WHAT?" That came out a bit more guilty than he liked. He hurried to add: "What now? I'm busy!"

Gaston shrugged. "Suure. You have just been lazing around, staring at me working."

Prunelle _really _hoped is blush could be confused for anger or frustration. "Someone has to keep an eye on you, Lagaffe!"

"I'm done now."

"No you aren't!" Now the blush on his face was starting to signal actual anger. Good.

He signaled towards the filing cabinet. "Did you clean from under it!? Did you, rogntudjuu!?"

Gaston muttered something under his breath, and bent over, giving anyone who was willing to pay attention (at the moment only his boss) an _excellent _view on his behind and bare lower back.

Prunelle was sure his heart stopped. "Nevermind!" And with that he was off, leaving one confused, but relieved coworker behind.

* * *

><p>Prunelle slammed the door of his office shut.<p>

He wasn't exactly sure _why _he was so angry, but this time Gaston had gone too far!

He started rearranging is desk, hoping it would calm him down. No such luck.

That Gaston! How he dared to- to _bend over _so suggestively! Surely that was classified as sexual harassment!?

What if people had noticed he had noticed!?

Oh God, what if they thought he had abused his position as a boss to make him do that!? What if someone with a dirty mind would-

He reached out to his pills.

It was okay, he told himself. It was all just his imagination. He had done nothing wrong. It wasn't wrong to notice, was it? To look at something that was right in front of you?

He tried to imagine if it was a lady. Would it be inappropriate?

He was sure that kind of stuff went on, lucky for him he had always been work-oriented enough to avoid getting involved with anything like that. But Jeanne for example had certainly been doing the same thing…

Not that he had been doing it for the same reasons she had, of course.

He needed to get out, walk a bit, so he picked some papers. Might as well go and take them to the accounting now.

Prunelle passed Jeanne on the way.

He stopped, making a show of reading the papers, but in actuality observing her. At least she was hard at work now. Careful so that no-one noticed, he glanced at her butt, trying to gauge how wrong it was.

Not that he cared much, it wasn't the same somehow.

He continued his walk, deep in thought.

"ZZZZZZZzzzzzzz…"

He stopped. It was a force of habit, he supposed.

Yes, that was the only explanation as to why he had walked into Gaston's room.

Well, there was always something he could yell at him for, some work he would try to get him to do…

"Get up, rogntudjuu."

But that came out much more silent than he intended, almost like he didn't really wish to wake him up.

"Nooommfh…"

The idiot was talking in his sleep!

"Lunch is ready." Prunelle tried, curious to see what his reaction would be. And he got a response. "I ate it allreadmm…"

Now this gave him an idea. He had heard of this kind of sleep-learning before.

"Work is fun." He whispered to his ear.

Gaston frowned. "NNoooommmh…"

"Sleeping at home is good." Prunelle tried.

This got a relaxed smile that unnerved him a bit. He hoped he didn't accidentally influence him to sleep _more._

"Sleeping at work is bad… Especially when you have documents to type that _someone _gave you."

"Rogntumfdjuu …"

Prunelle couldn't help a small smile. "Yes, your boss Prunelle would like them ready soon."

"Prunnnhm…" Astonished, Prunelle watched a smile spread to his face. Not a reaction he had expected.

"Léon Prunelle." He whispered again, just in case it was just a fluke.

This time the response was a soft moan that made breath caught in his throat.

And suddenly he was very aware of his position; that he had bended over the desk to invade the personal space of a sleeping man in order to whisper things to his ear.

Rogntudjuu, he was close enough to _kiss _him.

No, bad thought! Something less suspicious! Close enough to bite his nose, to nibble on his… Well, that didn't come across any less WRONG.

He was still like a statue, or like a rabbit caught in the head lights, face mere inches from the sleeping idiot. He smelled sickly sweet, he noticed.

A slight turn in his sleep startled Prunelle, and he reacted in the way most natural to him; "ROGNTUDJUU!"

This woke the sleeper, making him fall off his chair. "Mmhuh!?"

"You!" Prunelle tried to quickly think something. He could give him some work to do, or reprimand him for something. He decided to go for the latter, if just to make sure he knew how this was all his fault.

"What is this sweet smell!?"

For once to Prunelle's relief, Gaston seemed guilty. "What smell!?"

"Don't you try that! This is an office, not a perfume parlor! You get rid of that this instant!"

He marched out of the room in a way that he hoped came across as determined rather than petty.

He had work to do! Articles to write! He ran back to his office, and resumed work.

But his thoughts just circled around certain someone.

What was wrong with him today? It was almost like he was a schoolgirl with a stupid crush!

That was ridiculous. Just foolishness…

But he couldn't run away from these unwanted thoughts. It was like a floodgate had opened and all the nightmarish things had started to rise to the surface, like a school of dead rotten fish.

And now he was looking back to his past behavior, trying to figure out if he had been doing things like this in the past and just not noticed what he was doing.

Yes, he had at times looked at Gaston, but not inappropriately! And true, he had at times had a passing thought on how he looked cute when he slept, or how it was a shame he had such a bad posture and didn't make any effort on his appearance, but that was just noticing things.

But for a moment there he had almost kissed him! He had certainly thought of it! Then again, he had also thought in passing of volunteering Gaston for a guinea-pig for NASA in the hopes they'd send him to moon, or of throwing him off the roof, or sticking a bicycle pump to his mouth and inflating him until he burst, and he had no intention of doing any of that in reality.

Dear God, what if that had all just been some weird sexual thing? Maybe he had a thing for doing things to his sexual partners that involved bicycle pumps!?

No no no.

He certainly wasn't gay.

He had kissed _two _different girls in high school and university, and it had been okay!

And even if he _was _homosexual (which he was NOT) surely he would have a better taste in men than _that!?_

* * *

><p>"Lagaffe!"<p>

Prunelle had decided to confront his problems head-on.

Hopefully just acting like everything was normal would help him get rid of these foolish stupid ideas the idiot had been sowing to his mind.

Unfortunately (although not altogether surprisingly) Gaston's room was a danger-zone, and as Prunelle opened the door and stepped in he was showered in sickly-sweet liquid. Followed by a bucket. And a blank of wood.

"Rogdun- blech!" He spit the liquid out and threw the bucket at Gaston who had made the mistake of bending down to help his newest victim up.

"Just look what you did!" Gaston reprimanded the now soaked man. "I just finished putting up that new shelf."

"On top of the door!?"

"Well, there was a good spot. And it was you who told me to clean it up."

"What was it?" Léon hoped it wasn't poisonous, at least. But you never knew with the man…

"It was my love-potion."

"It was a WHAT now?"

Gaston gestured towards his desk, that seemed to be filled by ants. "How do you think I manage to breed my ants? You need to carefully choose the ants that seem like they would make a cute couple and-"

"Ants!"

A feeling of relief washed over Prunelle.

So there was nothing wrong with him, it had all been just some stupid chemistry experiment.

But now he was _doused _with the stuff…

He stood there, unsure what to do. Gaston ignored his odd behavior. "Yes, and it took me such a long time to brew it, too… I need to save what I can."

He bent over to mop the liquid off the floor, ignorant of the effect it had on his boss.

This time, Prunelle allowed himself a good look at the view.

It was all just the fault of this weird concoction, that's all. He could feel it in his mind.

He supposed he could just as well go with it, just a bit.

Gaston wasn't unattractive, he supposed. And he had admirable qualities as well, and there were times he sort of enjoyed his company.

Did he really at that moment, want to lean in closer to touch him?

Yes, Prunelle decided he quite liked the idea.

He reached out to the younger man, and grabbed his arm to pull him up.

"Mmhuh? What now?"

Prunelle was aware he was going to regret this.

This was just the weird drug talking, it would wear off soon. (He hoped so, the thought of following Gaston around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of his life made his stomach churn.)

Right at that moment, though, he was aware that it could wear off any second, and then it would be too late.

He took another step, partly fearing, partly hoping that Gaston would just jump back, or push him away.

That, however, did not happen, and nothing stopped him from pushing his lips against Gaston's.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but the fact that he kissed back was a surprise.

It was clumsy, and he managed to push Prunelle's glasses askew with his nose, which was quite uncomfortable, and Prunelle had no idea what to do with his hands, and it felt like his brain had stopped working. Presumably quite a while ago.

Also when he opened his mouth to breath, somehow it came out as a moan.

But more importantly, the slightly taller Gaston took this as invitation and pushed his tongue in to the foreign mouth.

This was enough to break through the haze, and the boss jumped back like he was bitten.

He wanted to express how inappropriate that all was and breaking all kinds of boundaries, which came out as :

"RUNGHHOUDHHHH!"

Gaston scratched his neck, confused. "Sure. What was that all about, by the way?"

"AS IF YOU DON'T KNOW!" He suddenly remembered he really didn't want an audience. "It was all your fault." He finished in a more silent tone.

"I don't know what _you _are complaining about. It wasn't _me _whose mouth tasted like tobacco."

This was all a nightmare. It had to be. "I am not having this conversation. In fact, _we_ are not having this conversation. None of this happened, it was all the fault of that ant-thing of yours!"

"Ah, I see. You want me to get rid of them?"

"I already told you at least twice!"

And Gaston was left alone (with few hundred ants).

* * *

><p>"So, how is it working? That ant-breeding experiment of yours." Jules asked, helping Gaston carry his ant-colony outside.<p>

"It worked great. Ants love the stuff."

"What's in it?"

"Sugar. Also some water. Works great, though."

"And you are willing to give up your ant-colony?"

Gaston nodded. "Yeah. It has a really odd effect on some people, as I learned. I think Prunelle has some weird thing for ants or something."

"So, you want to set them free?"

"Yeah. Although…" Gaston licked his lips thoughtfully, "I might want to bring them back to the office sometime later. For scientific curiosity."

* * *

><p>I wrote continuation on this, but at the moment (since there are about three people in the universe who ship this) I'm only submitting them to my Tumblr (mutalieju). You can find the link in my profile.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Prunelle is so far in the closet he is in danger of falling into Narnia and founding the first Narnian newspaper and saving the fantasy-land with his ace editorial skills. Gaston is just sort trying to figure things out.

Rating: Probably wouldn't let my mum read this, but mostly because she'd get worried I'm writing from my own experience. No, mum, I am not having a nervous breakdown over being gay, relax.

Other stuff I felt I should mention:

I'm not sure when this whole thing takes place, some vague past period, though. Generally speaking I write these things like they take place sometime in the 70's but I'm not going to be perfectly historically accurate, partly because I didn't feel like researching attitudes towards homosexuals and the political climate in 70's Belgium or whatever in depth, or delving too deeply into it in any case.

I was originally planning to just submit this to my Tumblr but whatever. Most of my Prunelle/Gaston stuff ends up there though.

* * *

><p>"You are late, Gaston."<p>

"Mmh."

His vague mumbling only made Prunelle more frustrated.

He wasn't sure why, but he was extra agitated today.

Of course, Mesmaeker was coming this afternoon, how could he have forgotten? He wasn't feeling like himself lately.

It was all Gaston's fault somehow.

He stared at Gaston.

Why did he have to dress like that? Showing that much skin? It wasn't appropriate. His eyes wandered to the bare skin between the jumper and jeans, he could almost see...

"Mr. Prunelle!"

"Mr. Mesmaeker!? We weren't expecting you yet!"

Unfortunately the businessman was already red with anger. "I have seen quite enough, I saw what you were looking at!" The contracts were torn in pieces and thrown to Prunelle's face. "Do you really think I'm willing to do business with someone like _you_?"

"I don't know what you are saying, maybe we can talk this over-"

"I have had enough. I _know _what you were thinking when you looked at the office boy."

All Prunelle could do was open and close his mouth, at loss for words.

As he watched Mesmaeker leave, he suddenly knew with an utmost certainty that _everyone _knew.

"This is all your fault, Gaston!"

"Who cares, they were just some contracts."

He didn't get it, he really didn't. Or was he _trying _to make him angry?

Prunelle pushed him on the table. He was so angry he wanted to-

What the hell? Everyone already knew.

Prunelle kissed him.

Gaston didn't seem surprised in the slightest.

He had been waiting for this, Prunelle realized.

Well, he could do things to him that _would _surprise him.

Things that would probably surprise himself as well, since he only had a vague idea that he wanted Gaston under him, and that there were certain noises he was going to get out of him-

Prunelle sat up in his bed, disoriented.

It had just been a nightmare.

He did his best to ignore his body that seemed to be of the opinion that no, it hadn't been a nightmare at all, and that it would like it very much had it continued.

When had it all began? Had it been in the 6th grade when his best friend had started to notice girls and he had been upset that they stopped spending time together?

Was this why any of his relationships with women hadn't gone anywhere? Or was this _attraction _because he had ignored dating and his social life in favor of studying and working?

Had any of his friendships with other men been genuine, or just him pining for them?

Had what he had been thinking of as respect and admiration for Fantasio's journalistic skills been just sexual attraction?

Was the only reason he enjoyed Lebrac's company because in some subconscious level he wanted to-

Prunelle shook his head.

He couldn't start thinking that way.

It was just Gaston, if he just managed to avoid him for a while, he could ignore all of this and just focus on work and it would all go back to normal.

He might just as well give up on getting more sleep this night, though.

He was afraid he wouldn't be able to avoid him in his dreams.

* * *

><p>Gaston, too, was having trouble sleeping. He hadn't been able to sleep a wink all day.<p>

Just when he was finally about to drift to dreamland, he could hear the door, and was up, pretending to work.

However, to his disappointment, it was Lebrac.

"Lagaffe, I need some of the old issues of _Spirou_ for reference."

"Ah, you can be the first to witness my new revolutionary filing system!"

"Does it have something to do with all those pieces of string that go to the archives?"

"Yeah. Why go and walk to the archives to search what you need,when all you need to do is to find a corresponding card here, and then pull the attached string, and voila! The right book will fly to you!" Gaston explained enthusiastically. He had been looking forward to showing his new invention to Prunelle, but he hadn't seen him in days.

Well, Lebrac could appreciate efficiency almost as much as Prunelle.

At the moment the artist seemed hesitant, however. "You'd still need to find the right card from that pile."

"Pfft, a minor detail. What did you need?"

"All the magazines from 1962."

"Hm, I guess this... No, would you happen to need a book on Leech biology?"

"Never mind, Lagaffe, I'll go look for it myself."

"Or the issue number 985, oh, I think I want to read this one." Gaston pulled the string.

Accompanied by an explosion, something flew across the room, barely missing Lebrac. "What was that!?"

"Ah, it seems I might have used too much gunpowder."

"GUNPOWDER!?"

Before Gaston could explain, he had to take cover due to a 12-part encyclopedia set flying at him.

It all went even more downhill very quickly, the archive room doing it's best expression of a firework display, spewing books and papers out.

Finally it all quieted down, and Gaston and Lebrac ventured from their hiding place under the desk.

"It was all part of the 'books flying at you' idea!" Gaston explained. "I just made a small mistake on the doze, and maybe books aren't as aerodynamic as I assumed!"

The display was gathering a crowd of onlookers by then, and finally, Gaston spotted Prunelle, at the back of the crowd.

He mentally braced himself, ready for the yelling.

Which never came.

After making sure the threat was over and no-one was hurt, the office workers went on their separate ways, but Prunelle was nowhere to be seen.

Odd.

* * *

><p>"Heey, Prunelle!"<p>

The editor didn't even turn to see the man who had barged in his office. "What is it, Lagaffe, I'm busy."

Gaston frowned. He didn't actually have anything in particular to show him.

Well, he could come up with something.

"Come and see what I taught Kitty to do!"

"Unless you have managed to teach your cat how to edit page layouts I'm not interested."

It was like he was avoiding him on purpose.

Gaston grabbed his shoulder. "Hey, Prunelle."

He could feel the editor flinching. But this managed to get his attention, at least.

"What?"

Gaston couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something weird about his expression. It wasn't anger, not the normal kind anyway. "I was just... Planning to do some chemistry experiments."

He turned his back again. "Fine. As long as you aren't getting in the way."

* * *

><p>Prunelle had almost declined when Lebrac had asked him out for some drinks after work.<p>

But he couldn't start acting weird around everyone, out of some weird fear that he might start looking at other men he knew the same way he already looked at Gaston.

Although he had already caught himself staring at Lebrac, trying to figure out if he _did _want to kiss him, even a little bit, and that kind of thinking wasn't good.

But going for drinks with Lebrac was, apart from office parties and writing a letter to his mother every two weeks, the extent of his social life, and he wasn't planning to lose it over whatever weird feelings he might be having over Gaston.

And he really needed to talk to someone.

Prunelle tried to think of a way to bring up the issue without arousing suspicion.

"So, I was going through the reader mail..."

"So you have given up on getting Lagaffe to do his work?"

Prunelle hesitated. It was true that he had been avoiding Lagaffe recently, instead of trying to push him to work. He'd have to try keep acting more normal.

"Well, I was going through the mail, and there were some suggestions. One reader wanted to see more articles on linguistics, there were complaints that the jokes about the police were inappropriate, someone was complaining we should have articles on homosexual rights, the usual."

"That kind of stuff isn't really appropriate for a magazine like ours."

Prunelle nodded. "Of course not. But I was thinking of writing some light articles on linguistics. Something like comparing different dialects, maybe getting some humor out of misunderstandings between different-"

Lebrac sighed. "You are just going to talk about work, aren't you? Well, do you want me to draw some illustrations for any of those things?"

"Some caricatures speaking in different dialects, maybe? Although, the magazine could tackle some social issues in a more lighthearted manner."

"Lagaffe certainly tries to do that. And Franquin."

"Yes, but now that I think about it, it's probably best not to mess around with politics. Can you think of the letters we would get if we took a side in, let's say the matter of homosexual rights?"

Lebrac smiled. "Almost makes me want to do it just to see that. Almost."

"What kind of gag or story we could even do with that? Can't say I have ever really thought of the homosexual question. I don't think I've ever met anyone who was, you know a bit like..."

"Back in art-school, I used to know a few."

"Really? What were they like?"

"Well, it was more or less an open secret these two guys were seeing each other. One of them was sort of effeminate but the other looked normal. You wouldn't have been able to tell, but last I heard of him he had settled down and married a woman, so who knows?"

"Hm."

"Speaking of women and settling down, how about you?"

Rogntudjuu, what if he was suspecting something? Had he been obvious?

"Well, there _is _someone..."

Lebrac smirked. "Tell me all about it."

"She is..." Prunelle tried to think quickly. What kind of a woman would be a suitable girlfriend? What kind of woman he _should _be interested in?

"She is intelligent, and well-educated, and work-oriented. And she... looks nice. It's not serious, actually we have barely talked."

"But it was love at first sight? Where did you meet her?"

"In the same apartment building I live in." He'd better make up an explanation as to why he'd never meet her if he happened to visit his apartment, and why this imaginary relationship would believably end. "She doesn't live there, she is helping her old aunt. She has this annoying yapping little dog she always has with her."

There, a believable little detail that would make her sound more real and less like some ideal dream.

"It would never work."

"Don't say that, you never know if you don't try!"

"Believe me, it wouldn't. She already has a boyfriend. A nice boy who works in the same place than her. She is a teacher." He'd have to try to remember the details about all these imaginary people he was inventing. Not that Lebrac would probably remember tomorrow, he had been drinking more than him, and was looking pretty tipsy.

"And she is younger than me. Not underage or anything, but..." He said, confident that he wasn't revealing too much.

"Ooh, that's harsh. Sorry. Still, you might have a chance! Don't give up!" He waved his arms enthusiastically. "Want to go tell her how you feel right now? I'll come with you!"

"Thanks, but I'll deal with it myself."

* * *

><p>Gaston sneaked across the office, putting all of his stealth skills, accumulated over the years of avoiding work, to good use.<p>

He had just concealed himself on top of the filing cabinet, when his target walked past.

Gaston followed Prunelle across the office, trying to figure out what it was the editor was doing that was so important he had no time to keep an eye on him.

Nothing out of the ordinary, it seemed.

He had talked to a bunch of different people, and was now sitting at his desk.

Bored, Gaston watched him type something, the noise of the typewriter lulling him into half-sleep.

It was like a machine-gun, going rat-tat-tat-tat...

Huge guns and tanks, firing pencils and books, trying to get to him.

Gaston pulled Miss Jeanne along the battlefield, trying to find cover. "They are all mad!" He told her. "We need to get to safety before they blow the whole world up!"

Suddenly earth shook, making them both stumble. "What is this? Do they have an earth-quake machine!?"

Gaston watched in horror as a great chasm opened, and a flood of mail started pouring from it like some kind of nightmarish volcano.

"Rogntudjuu, Gaston! What have you done with the mail?"

Gaston turned to Prunelle who was doing his best to drag a new bag of mail towards him to add to the flood.

"Prunelle, how can you think of mail at a time like this?"

He ignored the question, doing his best to wade through the mail towards Gaston. "Have you seen the file on the-"

Gaston took his hand. "No time for that, we need to hurry!" And with that he dived into the mail, dragging Prunelle with him.

They sunk into the ocean of paper, deeper and deeper.

Eventually the mail turned more solid, and they kept digging, eventually reaching an underground cavern.

"What is this place?" Prunelle asked.

"We'll be safe here." Gaston assured him. " We can let the war rage on top of the world, and wait here until it's all over. Let them drop the bombs, we will sleep here through the nuclear winter like a pair of hedgehogs in their nest."

"Hm, I guess you were right to leave the mail as it was." Prunelle admitted.

"Of course. Come here, together we'll be warm and cozy."

The unopened mail made for a soft bed, and they curled up on it together.

Gaston hugged the other man, wanting to get closer to that warmth. Kissing him felt like the natural next step, and Prunelle didn't seem to mind at all.

Gaston couldn't help a giggle when Prunelle reached for his earlobe and planted kisses on it. And was he purring?

The next thing he knew he fell from his hiding place on top of the filing cabinet.

* * *

><p>Prunelle was just going through the layout, trying to decide if anyone would notice if they reused a comic from 1954 to fill up space, when his train of thought was interrupted by a body falling from on top of a cabinet, accompanied by an annoyed cat and a confused 'Mmhuh?'.<p>

"Rogntudju, Gaston! What are you doing? How long have you been there!?"

"Mmhuh? It was all your fault. Why did you lick my ear?"

Prunelle paled. What was he making up now? What if someone heard? "Shut up, Lagaffe! Get out of my room. And take your cat with you!"

This couldn't go on.

* * *

><p>Gaston sat in his room, absentmindedly staring at the mountain of mail, thinking back to his dream.<p>

It had been going pretty nicely, up until he had fallen off the cabinet...

Prunelle, though. Gaston couldn't figure him out.

He decided to talk to someone, and reached for the phone.

"Jules, I want to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"What if someone kisses you, and then acts all weird afterwards? Doesn't want to talk about it but doesn't act the way they used to either?"

"Aah, you Romeo! Who is it? Miss Jeanne?"

"No, it's-"

"Someone hot?"

Gaston considered the question. "Yes. But I don't know what is going on now."

"It's typical female psychology," Jules informed him. "They send mixed messages, come on to you and then push you away. Maybe your breath smells?"

"I really don't think _that's _the case here. And are female and male minds really that different?"

If that was the case, Jules probably couldn't help him since he had no experience in dating guys.

Of course he _was _a guy. "So, what if _you_ kissed someone, and they kissed back, and then you'd be mad and weird at them?"

"Gaston, do you like this girl?"

"It's not a girl."

"Whatever, a woman, a _mademoiselle_, a proper lady. Do you like them? Do you want it to go further?"

Gaston wasn't sure he had an answer to that.

So he decided to be organized and efficient, that's what Prunelle was always telling him, and if he was trying to figure _him _out, that would be the way to go, right?

So he made a list of all the positive and negative things about Prunelle:

-yells a lot

-is a smoker.

(It hadn't been too bad at first, thinking back to their kiss, but when he had tasted the inside of his mouth out of curiosity, it had been like licking an ashtray.)

-Rogntudju

On other hand:

+ would probably yell less if they'd kiss more (and maybe that had been why he had been yelling at him all these years?)

+ Is Prunelle.

After some thought Gaston added 'rogntudju' on the list of positives as well.

Well, that seemed like a reliable scientific result.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Prunelle. Do you want to come and eat lunch in my room? I made cod and strawberry-filled croissants!"<p>

"I'm leaving." It wasn't the way Prunelle had planned to break the news, but might as well get it over quickly. And he'd rather avoid those croissants. It was best to just end everything quickly.

"So, when are you coming back?"

"I'm not. I was offered the job of an editor-in-chief in a local newspaper." He didn't mention this had happened a while back, and that he had initially refused, at least partly due to what he now recognised as an attachment to Gaston. But they were still looking for a successor for the old editor-in-chief who was planning his retirement, and had been very interested in hiring him.

"Fantasio visits every now and then, even though he no longer works here." Gaston reminded him.

"Hm."

Prunelle hated to admit it, but he felt slightly disappointed when Gaston didn't try to convince him not to leave beyond that.

Well, it seemed like he had some sense.

* * *

><p>However, the first thing next morning Gaston stepped into Prunelle's office, dragging a large sack after him.<p>

"Lagaffe, what are you-"

It turned out the sack was filled with letters, which were all dumped on his desk.

"Lagaffe, I'm busy, if you think I'll do _your _job as well..."

"Nonono. All these letters came in this morning, all saying the same thing. Go on, open one!"

Prunelle picked one at random. "Dear Mr. Prunelle, please don't leave your job. The magazine just won't be the same without you."

"All these readers are horrified and certain the quality of the magazine will plummet if you leave! You wouldn't do that to all these poor fans of your work?"

"I think I recognise the handwriting on this one..." He picked up one other letter from the pile.

It confirmed his suspicions. "This is clearly written by the same person! Even the wording is almost identical!"

"Well, obviously some readers were so passionate about it they wrote twice."

"Uh-huh. And you're saying that if I open the rest of these, I won't find that all of the letters have the same handwriting that strongly resembles a drunken spider?"

Gaston pouted."What happened to 'this is not my job?'"

"Gaston, did you stay up all night writing these?"

"Well, I thought it would help. That reminds me, make sure I'll get paid overtime for it."

"Gaston, I'll be frank with you. This is a great opportunity for me. I've enjoyed working here, but it's time to move on. I'm 34, and it feels like my career here isn't about to go anywhere-"

Gaston hugged him.

Prunelle stood as still as he could, both wanting this moment to go on forever and for it to end as quickly as possible.

He breathed in the smells of the other human; wool, cat, some chemical smells and things he couldn't identify making up something completely unique.

He felt the hug was being too one-sided, and reached his other hand around Gaston, carefully avoiding bare skin, settling to putting his hand on Gaston's shoulder.

Encouraged by this, Gaston planted a soft kiss on his cheek, Prunelle turned his head, and they ended up in an awkward kiss.

It took a second for Prunelle to come to his senses, and he broke the kiss, slowly and carefully this time, staying close to the other body. "Are you insane? This is a horrible idea!"

"Why?"

"Why, he asks! What if someone finds out? Aren't you bothered at all by how this is... Unnatural?"

Gaston shrugged. "I don't see why."

There had been times before when Prunelle had envied Gaston, but never as much as this moment. He had been panicking over this for weeks, barely sleeping, while Gaston just nonchalantly accepted whatever happened.

"But, but, what about Miss Jeanne!? Aren't you dating?"

"Oh, I like her." Gaston blushed. "But not the same way as I like you."

It felt somehow relieving seeing the younger man have some kind of reaction to this, and Prunelle couldn't help feeling some satisfaction over being the person to cause him to blush that way.

"This is a really horrible idea."

"It can't be, I had it."

That really didn't make Prunelle feel better. "No-one will know about this, you understand?"

"If you say so."

"And when it comes to our working relationship, nothing will change."

Gaston kissed him again. "I have some terms too."

"Mmmh?" Prunelle hoped they'd be sensible, he had a feeling he'd agree to anything.

"You lay off the pipe."

"Only if you stop cooking at the office."

"I think we need to continue these negotiations. For an undetermined amount of time."

"Sounds great."


	3. Chapter 3

**Fandom: **Gaston Lagaffe

**Pairing(s): **Prunelle/Gaston, Part 3 of a series.

**Summary:** So, they were now in a relationship, Prunelle supposed. It was just too bad he had no idea how any of it would actually work in practice, or how to continue from there.

**Rating:** Would show mum. Then again ever since I was a kid my mum had the habit of going 'Those two male characters seem close. Are they a gay couple? I bet they are a gay couple.' at any male relationships in fiction (especially in children's comics) so I guess I shouldn't use my mum as some kind of standard, I dunno.

**Other stuff I felt I should mention:** I needed a name for Lebrac's unnamed girlfriend, and since some people have decided to use the name 'Aimée' for her already, I went with that.

**Word Count:** 4132

* * *

><p>"Lagaffe."<p>

The smile on Gaston's face made Prunelle's heart skip a beat.

The office boy was blushing and before Prunelle knew it, he was caught in a hug.

So much for Prunelle's attempt to start the day in a professional manner.

Prunelle gave a small peck on his cheek and did his best to wiggle out of the hug. "Gaston, I have work to do. As do _you._"

The younger man let go. "Oh."

"So, I came by to bring today's mail." He pushed the small bundle at Gaston. "Here."

"Ah, thanks."

Prunelle wasn't really sure why Gaston was blushing again and giving him an embarassed smile like he had just given him something much more romantic than mail that would presumably soon be forgotten somewhere for weeks.

And now he was feeling like he should have done something like that.

Some kind of _romantic _gesture...

He settled to giving him a smile and a pat on his shoulder.

"I have work to do, Gaston."

* * *

><p>Fortunately the work today wasn't particularly hectic, so the editor had plenty of time to let his thoughts wander.<p>

He wasn't really sure what kind of things he should do now.

He did sort of want to do something special for Gaston, but on the other hand it felt like a bad and awkward idea. Besides, he wasn't really a romantic person.

Then again, he hadn't had many opportunities for doing those kind of things, and hadn't paid much mind for that sort of stuff.

His main experience from dating had been the relationship he had had in university with a girl a year junior to him, and that had been, looking back to it, more of a friendship than anything.

He sighed, letting his eyes wander.

Well, there was Lebrac. He had had a pretty successfull work-place romance with Aimée, one of the secretaries. Which Prunelle hadn't had any issue with, since it didn't interfere with their work.

It had been so seemingly easy for the artist too, the editor couldn't help feeling jealous.

It hadn't been, from what Prunelle had seen in the office anyway, any courtship filled with grandiose gestures. Rather, two people had simply been seemingly naturally drawn to one another, and the relationship had just fallen into place.

Then again, maybe he had just seen part of it, so that's how it had seemed. Maybe it had been difficult for them as well?

Then Prunelle suddenly remembered he had started this thing not only with another man, but with _Gaston Lagaffe _of all people, so no, it probably hadn't been as confusing and difficult for them.

"Prunelle."

"Hm?" He realized he had been staring at Lebrac.

"What do you think?" The artist pointed at the painting he was working on.

"It's nice. I like the colour scheme."

"You seemed like you were deep in thought."

"Sort of. I was just thinking." Prunelle reached for his pipe, mostly to have something for his hands to do.

"About your crush?"

"What!?" Prunelle almost snapped his pipe in half in shock.

"The girl you told me about. The one with the annoying dog. You were just looking sort of..."

Prunelle quickly evaluated the pros and cons of keeping that charade up with Lebrac. On the other hand, he could have talked about all this stuff (or some of it at least) with him then, but on the other hand, it was risky, since the chances were Lebrac would have noticed him acting that way towards Gaston.

"I was just thinking," He lighted his pipe to avoid looking Lebrac in the eye. "Besides, that probably won't go anywhere. She already has a boyfriend."

Lebrac was too close to both him and Gaston. But he _could _talk about this with someone in that manner, pretending it was a woman he was talking about.

Of course he then realized he really didn't know many people well enough to talk about his love life with them.

For a moment he was seriously considering mentioning it to his mother, but that would have either given her false hope or a heart-attack, and he wasn't looking for either.

And he'd rather not spread any rumours on the workplace about him having a girlfriend, considering the chances where it would reach Gaston's ears, and he might take it seriously...

Prunelle was starting to realize how troublesome it was having 90% of your social life taking place in the same environment.

He had known this was a bad idea.

And yet, due to the odd elated feeling, he couldn't really totally regret it all either, which in some ways made it worse.

Prunelle closed his eyes.

He was just going to ignore Gaston for the time being, and focus on the letter he was typing.

Right.

He opened his eyes, and started.

His plan of not paying Gaston any mind worked for all of twenty seconds.

Then he hit the 'S' key.

"-of course the chances are it is in fact the more common Great Spotted Woodpecker, if the caller could have given us a better description of its back we could tell her more, but of course the White-backed Woodpecker can be reliably identified only by-"

That was coming from his typewriter.

He pressed the 'S' key again, and the voice stopped.

Another press.

"-and our next caller has a question about a bracket fungi he found that apparently looks like Leonid Brežnev-"

Some experimentation revealed that the 'W' key tuned into the 'classical channel', and that the 'L' key made a sound like a blowhorn.

* * *

><p>Prunelle stormed into the mail room. "Gaston!"<p>

"Oh, hey Prunelle."

Prunelle ignored his smile. "What have you done to my typewriter!?"

"Oh, you noticed."

"Rogntudjuu Gaston, do you think I can type anything like that?"

"I just cleaned it."

"It plays music, you ngh-" 'You_ idiot_', he was about to say, but swallowed the last part just in time.

Understanding dawned on Gaston. "Oh, so that's where those parts from my uncle's radio went." He smiled. "But isn't it just better for it?"

"No!"

Prunelle would have said more, but before he could think of pejoratives that would be now appropriate, he found himself in a kiss.

No, he wasn't!

Prunelle didn't know which was more annoying, that Gaston was trying to get out of this by kissing him, or that it was working.

He could feel his anger quickly diminishing.

Which was nice in a way, but he needed that to do his job, rogntudjuu!

Also he wasn't doing the sensible thing and pulling out of the kiss... Or, you know, not kissing back in the first place.

Yes, he should do that, despite the hesitation at the back of his mind.

He broke the contact and made a conscious attempt to sound less angry and more reasonable. "Gaston, you can't do that."

"I just did." He noted, extremely unhelpfully.

"No, no." Prunelle closed the door, relieved that no-one (apart from the seagull that he was pretty sure was _staring)_ had seen it.

"You agreed, our working relationship was to stay the same. And it didn't involve any of that stuff before."

"But why not? Prunelle, what harm is there, relaxing every once in a while? No one saw."

"No, Gaston. Listen, we will take things slowly. And figure things out."

"Phuh."

"I'm going to take that as an agreement."

Prunelle definitely did not flee the uncomfortable situation, he merely walked briskly away to continue his work.

With his singing typewriter.

Well, at least it tuned to the classical-channel...

* * *

><p>Gaston watched Prunelle leave. He couldn't quite place the feeling in his chest...<p>

Sighing, he closed his eyes and retreated to daydreams.

Hm, maybe he and Prunelle would be on an adventure together? Like that space-adventure-serial he had read just yesterday?

They'd land on an unknown planet, filled with alien creatures and lakes made of hydrogen and trees carrying diamonds the size of apples.

And Prunelle would complain that he wasn't writing enough space-articles and that Gaston should be sorting through the space-mail, but their communication-satellite would be eaten by a space-jellyfish, and they'd be stranded on the alien planet with no way to do paperwork, and then they'd be attacked by a rock-monster that would try to eat Prunelle...

But Gaston would, with a well-placed shot from his slingshot, make the monster crumble, saving Prunelle.

Who would panic and stress over their situation. 'We are stranded!' he'd despair.

'No worries!', Gaston would tell him.'We have the limitless possibilities of an unknown planet before us!' And he'd show Prunelle how they could build a house from the remains of their rocket and grow food, and Prunelle would be so impressed and relieved he'd hug him, and kiss him, and tell him he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with him...

And then they'd kiss again...

Gaston opened his eyes.

That was a nice daydream and all, but it felt sort of pointless and unsatisfying, now that he could just do that in real life. Well, the hugging and kissing part at least. Even if he could move to an alien planet, he wouldn't really want to, at least not without his pets, and it was nice going to movies every now and then, and visit his aunt...

But even those hugs and kisses were sort of an issue.

They had already done that, so why not do more of it?

And it wasn't like Prunelle was opposed to the idea itself either, he was just being overly uptight.

Gaston entertained the idea of just not caring and surprising Prunelle with kisses publicly (once everyone knew, he'd have no reason NOT to kiss him a lot more, right?), but something about that idea made him hesitate.

Just the idea of Prunelle made his stomach feel weird (pleasantly so, though) but when it came to all of that kind of stuff, he was a bit nervous he'd do something wrong. Which was a new and foreign feeling. Figuring Prunelle out had suddenly become much more complicated.

He'd need to think of things they could do now that they were dating.

They were dating, right? He wasn't sure they had actually agreed to it, but kissing?

Yeah, they were totally dating.

He grinned.

He wanted to run around telling everyone, engrave their initials on trees (that was actually probably doable), brag to Jules how the waitress he had brought to that one party wasn't as cute as his Prunelle...

He sighed.

Was dating always this complicated, or was it just Prunelle?

He caught movement on the floor and smiled. At least there was always someone he could talk to.

"Cheese. Come here." He lifted the mouse on the table and watched it feast on the piece of its namesake. "Did you see the sweater he was wearing? It was the brown one. I never noticed before, but I think it's more fluffy than most of the things he wears."

The mouse wiggled his whiskers in what Gaston took as an agreement.

"What should I do, Cheese? It must be easy, being a mouse. Well, I guess you are hunted by pretty much everything, and live like three years. But at least your love-life is easy. If Prunelle and I were mice we'd be well into raising our first litter by now."

Cheese picked up the remaining food and scampered off to his nest with it.

"Phuh, you don't want to listen to me either? I didn't even start with my opinions on his hair..."

* * *

><p>Prunelle walked out of his office, almost colliding with Gaston who had been obviously waiting for him in the hallway. "You're leaving?"<p>

"Yes," Prunelle said.

"I can give you a lift home," Gaston suggested.

Prunelle supposed that was fine. After all, that was something Gaston had been in habit of doing even before this whole thing. So refusing him would actually be more suspicious.

So he nodded.

The sight of the so-called car made him hesitate again. "So, how is it going to malfunction today? Will it catch fire? Maybe the carburetor will dissolve? Or we'll find sparrows are nesting in the motor?"

"You are exaggerating."

"All of those things have actually happened," Prunelle pointed out.

"Which will only make them less likely to happen again."

However, worry over the vehicle and the numerous ways it could malfunction felt familiar and in some way comforting.

But when he was sitting in the car and they were making their way towards his apartment safely (albeit slowly), the new kind of nervousness was lifting it's head again.

What would they talk about?

Rogntudjuu, what if Gaston would expect to be invited in?

"So, Gaston, what have you been doing lately? Any new inventions?" It couldn't hurt trying to use this opportunity to find out what sort of catastrophes he could expect.

"No. Well, I think my seagull has been a bit depressed lately, so I tried building a machine that would cheer her up. Long story short, there are still some kinks to work out, so if you happen to find an octopus somewhere in the office, that's mine."

"Ah." He felt the need to ask "A dead one? Or are you keeping live octopuses now too?"

"Obviously it was dead. By the way, the plural is 'octopi'."

"Both are acceptable," Prunelle told him.

Gaston gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

"Gaston, eyes on the road!" Prunelle lurched sideways as the car swerved to avoid colliding with a parking meter. "And yes, trust me, knowing those kinds of things is a part of my job."

"Oh." Gaston seemed to process this new information. "I guess you _would _know all that kind of stuff."

"Yes, Gaston, my job consists of more than keeping an eye on you and yelling at people. Believe it or not."

"Okay." Gaston said. "I promised to go help Jules to paint his flat this weekend."

"You do things like that?" Prunelle was a bit surprised he'd volunteer to do work, but he did make (usually disastrous) attempts of being helpful every now and then even at the office.

"Yup, I do stuff like that a lot. Do you wanna come? It's not just me and Jules, Bertrand and some other of my friends are coming to help too, and we're going to eat afterwards. So, you could come with."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh. Of course, that's not really... Prunelle, how about if you and I would go and do something else, then?"

"Umh..."

"Like, a picnic? We could do that, right?"

"It's February." Prunelle reminded him. "Maybe later."

"Oh."

An awkward silence fell and lasted until the car stopped in front of Prunelle's apartment building.

"And we're here!" Gaston turned towards Prunelle. "See? You worried over nothing."

"Yes, this time."

Prunelle had a slight fear Gaston might try to kiss him goodbye, so he opened the door to leave. "Thanks for the ride."

"I'll come and get you in the morning. Right?"

Prunelle nodded. "Sure. But if you're late, I'll be walking."

* * *

><p>To the editor's surprise, Gaston was actually early next morning, and was already waiting for him in front of his apartment building when he stepped out.<p>

"Hi." Gaston opened the passenger door for him, another action he had done countless times before but that now seemed to carry all these new meanings.

Prunelle nodded. "Morning." He sat on the passenger's seat. "Thanks."

Thanking him for holding the door for him wasn't, however, something he had usually done. But it felt appropriate now.

"And it was nice of you to be early." No harm in giving him credit where it was due.

"I left home half past five. Just in case the car broke down."

"And did it?"

"Yeah. A bit." He yawned.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Some. But it's okay, I'll just sleep at work."

Well, small steps, Prunelle supposed.

* * *

><p>Prunelle entered his home after once again saying his goodbyes to Gaston.<p>

They had fallen into a routine where Gaston would come to pick him up in the morning, and then drive him back home after work.

But it wasn't really a _comfortable _routine, even ignoring the fact that often he would have made the journey faster by walking. At least at work Prunelle could always escape any awkward situation by telling Gaston he was busy with work. In the small car he felt trapped, and while it wasn't really completely uncomfortable, he didn't know how to deal with it.

He had to seriously think.

So far this whole thing hadn't been any kind of catastrophe. But it was likely Gaston hadn't thought of it through. He probably didn't understand what he had gotten into.

That this couldn't really be a proper relationship, that he couldn't have most of those things with Prunelle that he could have had with Miss Jeanne or some other woman.

At least Prunelle didn't want any of those things, not really. Getting married and having children and living together with someone weren't things he needed from life. Which was good because he was increasingly certain that even without this thing with Gaston he couldn't have ever fallen for a woman.

But Gaston... Maybe he was just confused.

Did Prunelle regret getting into this, well, he supposed it _was_ a relationship?

No, he couldn't honestly say that. Which was probably selfish, but Gaston was more than okay with it.

But how would it go from there? How would he make it work?

They had spent time together outside of work before. So why now he felt so awkward? He had enjoyed the times Gaston had dragged him to the beach or for a walk in a forest, even if he hadn't at the time completely realized why.

And even if he had thought it was a bit odd at the time, now he would just be anxious if someone would notice and start to suspect things.

He really hadn't thought this through, had he?

Had he really thought that things would just somehow return to normal between them?

Although this was better than how he had been feeling weeks before, and against his better judgment he wanted to make this work.

Prunelle thought of his options.

* * *

><p>Lebrac popped his head into the office: "I'm off." He nodded towards Prunelle. "Working late?"<p>

Prunelle shook his head. "Just finishing here. Although it's a bit later than I thought. Has everyone else already gone home?"

The artist nodded. "Yup. Except Gaston."

"I'll wake him up when I leave."

Prunelle watched Lebrac leave. In truth he had finished the day's work some time ago and was now just going through things for the second or third time. Well, being thorough never hurt.

But now he finished quickly.

"Gaston?"

He was sleeping, predictably, hunched over his desk.

And looking very peaceful.

The thought of waking him up with a kiss crossed Prunelle's mind, but he quickly abandoned the idea.

Gaston probably wouldn't mind, but he didn't feel comfortable doing something like that without warning.

Still, something slightly more intimate than usual felt only appropriate.

So he slightly bent over so he was face to face with the sleeping man and gently nudged his shoulder.

"Gaston."

"Mmm..."

"Time to wake up."

Brown eyes fluttered open. "Now?"

Now that he was awake, Prunelle planted a soft kiss on his cheek, and the suddenly completely awake Gaston did his best to return it.

However, the position was uncomfortable for Prunelle, so he pulled away, standing up.

And he had something else in mind. "Come with me, Gaston."

He led the younger man to the conference room, locking the door after them. Not that anyone should come around the office at this hour. Still, better safe than sorry.

"Well, I thought that since the working hours are over and no-one would be here..." He gestured towards the sofa. "And it would be more comfortable here..."

Prunelle wondered if he should mention he was only suggesting kissing and hugging, but decided against it, just to avoid revealing he _had _been thinking about things going further than that...

Not that he had any intention of trying to actually do any of that, he was more than content with the kinds of things they had already been doing, and would just return to those kinds of thoughts during lonely nights in his apartment.

No need to let Gaston know anything about _that,_ though. That might either scare him away or give him ideas.

He tentatively kissed Gaston.

"Prunelle...Your breath smells minty."

"I brushed my teeth. So?" He wasn't about to stop smoking any time soon, but he figured the least he could do was to make it less uncomfortable for Gaston.

"Oh. Okay. Should I brush mine too?"

Prunelle couldn't help a smile. "You're fine." The mix of eagerness and uncertainty wasn't something he saw often in the younger man, and he found it cute.

He gently pushed Gaston towards the sofa, deciding to take the lead, just in case.

It probably didn't hurt at least pretending like he knew what he was doing.

He had thought of this, planning what to do beforehand.

In the scenarios he had ran through his mind Gaston had tended to end up under him, but he decided trying to actually get him in that position was completely out of the question. Too aggressive, Gaston might not have liked it, and it was probably fairly uncomfortable too.

So he settled to sitting next to him on the sofa, and pulling him to a hug.

Seeing what the younger man was planning to do, he told him "If you're planning to lift your feet on the sofa, take your shoes off first."

The espadrilles were kicked to the corner, so that Gaston could more comfortably sit face-to-face with the editor. This time he initiated the kiss, pushing against Prunelle.

Who had no issue kissing back, but didn't know what to do with his hands, and thinking it probably wasn't too sexual, he settled into burying his fingers into Gaston's hair. It was coarse, but clean, and he found himself enjoying the feel quite a lot.

Gaston responded by doing the same, slightly pulling at Prunelle's hair, which he found he _didn't _enjoy. He wasn't sure if Gaston had taken what he had done as a suggestion, or if he hadn't liked it either, and was mirroring his actions to show how uncomfortable it was.

He decided to let go, just in case. He wondered briefly whether he should mention anything, but it wasn't like it actually hurt, and it would probably spoil the mood or something. And it seemed Gaston was trying to find new things for his hands to do, and had moved to cupping the editor's face and gently stroking his beard, which Prunelle found weird, but sort of nice.

Prunelle closed his eyes, in the hopes it would make it feel less awkward.

He made an attempt of imagining it was someone else he was kissing. What if it was a woman? He didn't even feel any surprise anymore at the fact that the idea seemed far less appealing than the reality.

"Gaston..." He mumbled into the kiss.

Gaston pulled back. "Mmhuh?"

"Nothing, I just felt like saying it out loud."

Prunelle kissed him again, and not just to avoid any further questions.

He had to admit to himself that there was no one in the world he would have rather been kissing.

And he was surprisingly fine with that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fandom:** Gaston Lagaffe

**Pairing(s):** Prunelle/Gaston, Part 4 of a series.

**Summary:** Prunelle thinks Gaston could try to dress up sometimes.

**Rating:** fluff

**Word Count: **896

* * *

><p>Prunelle set the day's mail down on Gaston's desk. "Gaston, you remember the company party tomorrow, right?"<p>

"Mmhuh? Yeah, what about it?"

Prunelle gave him a look. "You need to remember to dress, well..." He gestured towards Gaston's jumper. "A bit more formally. Do you even have a suit?"

"I'm pretty sure I do. The one I always wear to these kinds of things."

Prunelle cringed. "That horrid gray thing that's about seven sizes too big for you? Hngh."

But he dropped the issue.

* * *

><p>The car stopped in front of the apartment building.<p>

"Here we are!" Gaston announced.

Prunelle looked thoughtful. "Gaston, about the party tomorrow..."

"Mmhuh?"

"I could lend you one of my old suits. It won't be a perfect fit, but it's bound to look better than whatever you have."

Gaston shrugged. "Sure."

"Great. Come on."

Gaston was a bit surprised, but he eagerly followed Prunelle in. He had never actually been inside his apartment before.

It turned out to be a small two-room flat, divided into a mixed kitchen/living room and a bedroom.

And it was far less office-like than Gaston had assumed. He had expected more filing cabinets and typewriters. Maybe a photo-copier.

It just felt so natural to think of Prunelle in conjunction with the office he had just thought his home would be the same. The massive amount of books in the bookcase taking up most of the living room at least seemed very Prunelle.

"Come on."

Gaston walked into the bedroom, slightly surprised the editor actually had _a bed. _Where he presumably _slept._

He sneaked a look inside his wardrobe. "You have more than one suit?"

Well, of course he did, Gaston had seen them in the office after all. Not that he had paid much attention to those. He far preferred the range of sweaters he usually wore. Much more fluffy-looking and softer.

"I have to." He pulled one out. "How about the brown one? It's old, but should fit you. And the colour matches your eyes. Plus I don't usually wear it so I don't think anyone would recognize it as mine."

"So...Will I try it on now?"

"Probably a good idea." Prunelle handed him the suit and a dress shirt and very pointedly did not look when Gaston started undressing.

Which Gaston found a bit weird, it wasn't like he hadn't seen him in his underwear before. But now it gave him the feeling he shouldn't have stood partly dressed in his bedroom.

So Gaston was relieved when he at least got the trousers on.

"I think it's okay."

Prunelle nodded. "It doesn't look great, but it's not horrible, at least. It's a bit too big for you, which is not surprising, since you are thinner than me. Also, pull your shirt in."

He sighed. "And your tie. Don't tell me you don't know how to tie it?"

"I do! Although I just usually leave my tie tied so I can just slip it on."

Prunelle helped with it, fumbling a bit. "I never tie it this way around," he explained. "Try to stand straight, Gaston."

The younger man did so.

"Hmm." Prunelle gave him a small appreciative smile. "You should put a bit more effort in the way you dress."

"It looks good?"

"Yes. Although we need to get you a proper one later. I mean, you should have one that's actually your size."

Gaston nodded. He supposed he could make an effort every now and then. He had really liked the look Prunelle had given him just now.

Maybe he could dress up every now and then? For Christmas and such. Or-

"Léon?"

If Prunelle was surprised by the use of his first name, he didn't show it. It had just felt appropriate.

"Yes?"

"When's your birthday?"

The question _did_ surprise him. "9th of October."

"I just thought I should know."

There were all kinds of things he didn't know about Léon, but wanted to.

This kind of stuff had been something he hadn't even realized he had been missing.

It was different from all the hugging and kissing, not that it wasn't great, and that Gaston wasn't eager and curious to see where that would go.

But seeing how the other man lived, standing in his bedroom talking about what he should wear, knowing each other's birthdays...

He really wanted to have all that stuff too.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So, I made 9.10 Prunelle's birthday. I wanted his birthday to be in the fall, around the time when blackthorn berries should be picked so they're sweet. Since I also needed the day I went through the Catholic calendar and the 9th is the feast day of St. John Leonardi, so I guess it could be his parents named him after the saint or something.

**A/N 2: **The next chapter of this will probably have sex, so it will just be posted on Tumblr (tho if you ship Gaston/Prunelle you should check my Tumblr out anyway, and probably have already.)


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